


Cubical Farm

by queenitsy



Category: High School Musical
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-02
Updated: 2010-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenitsy/pseuds/queenitsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chad wasn't cut out for cubicle life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cubical Farm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frogy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogy/gifts).



Chad was going to stab whoever had the cubicle opposite his. They had one wall in common -- Chad faced it one on side, and Most Obnoxious Cubicle Dweller Ever faced it on the other.

MOCDE had moved in two weeks ago, when Jones had gotten himself fired.Apparently Jones had been embezzling or something. Chad was surprised; judging by the snores he used to hear drifting over the cubicle barrier, he didn't think Jones was awake often enough to steal from his employers. But now he was gone and MOCNE was part of Chad's life.

It had started out small. MOCDE was a compulsive foot tapper. At first, Chad had barely heard it; in the cubicle shanty town sprawled inside the corporate office, foot tapping was a tiny sound. Then he'd started tapping his foot against the wall. The whole thing shook, just a little. It wasn't horrible, but it was distracting. Chad had a hard time concentrating to begin with -- he'd rather be out running or on the basketball court or _anywhere_ but in an office wearing a tie -- but somehow, every time he _did_ finally mange to focus, it would start. He'd hear a tiny tap and feel the wall tremble. Tap and tremble. Tap and tremble.

Whatever. Chad could deal. As long as it didn't collapse his piece of crap desk, what did he care?

Then the gabbing had started. Chad may have hated his job at Evans Inc, may have been one of a hundred drones on his floor alone, may have spent most of his time on stupid busy work, but at least he _did_ it. MOCDE apparently didn't. And unlike Jones, he didn't even have the good grace to snooze all day. Nope, he talked on the phone. Loudly. From the half of the conversations Chad heard -- because he had no way to _avoid_ hearing -- he learned that MOCDE had a sister who apparently changed boyfriends like she changed her shoes, and she did _that_ at least four times a day. She sounded pretty obnoxious, and frankly, so did _he_.

The last straw was the showtunes. Employees were technically allowed to listen to music in their cubicles, as long as they wore headphones. It was frowned upon when managers actually happened to see it, but technically, it was allowed. MOCDE, however, apparently had misread the employee handbook, because he didn't bother with headphones. He played his music right through his speakers, loudly, and sang along.

And it was always _showtunes_.

"I can't take it any more. I'm going to _kill him_ ," Chad seethed to Taylor in the break room, after a week in which the musical _RENT_ had been listened to no less than four times a day. Chad was going to stab someone if he ever had to hear the song _Seasons of Love_ again.

"Been awhile since anyone's gone postal," she answered, and pulled something up on her Blackberry. She was a manager, always busy checking her email. Back when she and Chad had attempted to date, the fact that she was always on her phone and he never had her full attention had really bugged him. Now that that was, thankfully, well in the past, he didn't mind so much. "What's the cubicle number?"

"Um. I'm 141, so he must be 142."

"Hm." She tapped another few buttons, then said, "Oh, no, honey. Be careful what you do, okay? Leave him alone."

"What? But he's -- Tay, seriously, you're a manager, you need to come see how horrible he is. Trust me, there is no way he's doing any work, at all, ever. He should be fired!"

"Yeah, that's not going to happen. Do you even know his name? Have any idea who he is?"

"No," Chad admitted. He'd been planning to introduce himself, but the guy was just so freaking annoying he hadn't. All he'd seen was the occasional flash of blond hair and baby blue clothing. And sparkles. What kind of freaking weirdo wore _sparkles_ to work?

"His name is Ryan. Evans. As in Evans Inc, as in son of Vance and Derby Evans? Who own the company? I don't know what he's doing working some crappy cubicle job -- no offense -- but don't pick a fight with him, Chad. You'll lose."

Chad groaned. That was just freaking _perfect_. It made sense, though. Evans could gab all day, listen to his music as loudly as he wanted, and no one would ever say a word to him about it. What a jerk.

No. Chad wasn't going to let that stand.

After lunch, he marched back to his stupid, claustrophobia-inducing cubicle, teeth gritted. Silence from across the wall, which meant probably Evans wasn't there. So he worked. And he waited.

Of course Evans was 45 minutes late getting back from lunch. Chad could tell the moment he arrived, because whatever the first track from the _RENT_ album was kicked up. Chad snarled, stood up, and stormed over to cubicle 142, where he finally saw Evans for the first time.

He stopped in his tracks.

Whoa.

Ryan Evans was gorgeous. Blond, lithe, sharply dressed in a way that made the sparkles _work_ , pretty features, perfect lips, and blue, blue eyes.

Blue eyes that were now staring at Chad.

"Um. Can I help you?" Evans asked.

Chad's thunder was gone. He managed to clear his throat, playing for time, trying to remember the English language, which had apparently dribbled out of his brain at some point, since it wasn't like he was used to encountering guys who looked like supermodels.

Finally, he managed. "Um, hi? My name is Chad. I work, uh" He gestured vaguely.

"Okay. Ryan," Evans offered. "So what's"

"Nothing." Chad swallowed. "Just saying hi. Because I didn't before. When you started working here, I mean. Um. I work right there so it seemed weird not to have said hi. So, hi."

"Hi," Evans said.

"'Kay, bye," Chad finished, and retreated. He collapsed back into his chair and slapped his forehead with his hand. What the hell had _that_ been? Chad was not the sort of person who babbled helplessly when he met someone attractive. Chad was not the sort of person who backed down or got overwhelmed. Chad was _cool_. It was kind of his whole thing. And now he not only had to put up with Ryan Evans' obnoxious habits, he was going to have to do it while knowing that Ryan Evans thought _he_ was a babbling idiot.

Evans' music went silent abruptly. There was a clatter from his cubicle. Then, "Hey," came from almost directly above Chad.

Chad looked up. Ryan was leaning over the wall that separated their workspaces, which meant he had to be standing on top of his desk. Well, _that_ went right on the list of things Evans did that were too weird for words.

"Um. Hey," Chad said.

"You wouldn't want to have dinner with me tonight, would you?"

Chad blinked. "Actually, uh, yes. That sounds nice."

"It will be," Evans said. "See you then."

He dropped back out of sight. A moment later, his music came back up, louder than ever. Somehow, though, Chad didn't find it quite so annoying anymore.


End file.
